On any normal afternoon, the reception area was all but empty—just the occasional Avenger passing through, or a SHIELD liaison dropping off paperwork.

Today was not a normal afternoon.

Three teenagers sat in a cluster of leather chairs near the floor-to-ceiling windows. Two of them were familiar: the girl with the dark hair and sharp gaze, and the boy who couldn't stop fidgeting with a small Lego figure.

The third was not familiar.

They sat casually, legs crossed, scrolling through their phone like they belonged here.

Bucky noticed them the second he stepped off the elevator.

He paused.

Stared.

Then changed direction without a word.

His boots made almost no sound on the polished floor as he approached. When he stopped in front of the group, arms crossed, metal arm glinting under the overhead lights, the unfamiliar teenager looked up.